


Writing Our Passion On Your Bedroom Wall

by Fruity446



Series: Bedroom Wall/Heartthrob [1]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alpha Nicole Haught, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, BDSM (slightly), Basketball Player Nicole Haught, Billionaire Waverly Earp, Choking, Daddy Kink, Drama, Erotic Poetry, Eventual Smut, F/F, Flirty Waverly, Fluff, Gay mess Nicole, Hair-pulling, I hate Champ Hardy, Ice Play, Inspired by Dirty Mind (a novel by vodkabite), Lesbians, Love, Massage, Omega Waverly Earp, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Slow Burn Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wall Sex, fake engagement
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:34:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29136372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fruity446/pseuds/Fruity446
Summary: Struggling with college tuition fees, Nicole Haught takes on a job at the local coffee shop in Purgatory, only to be startled out of her skin when she personally meets billionaire omega, Waverly Earp. It is then that she learns from her boss, Robin Jett, that the Earp pack owns many of the shops in Purgatory, despite living in Oakwood Springs, a few towns over.Oakwood Springs is the playground of the rich and famous, housing some of the oldest dynasties in the history of the world. It's no surprise that the small, elegant and intelligent brunette comes from there, but what is a surprise to Nicole is to be offered ten grand to be the omega's fake fiancée, all so that she can avoid being in an arranged marriage with one of the world's snobbiest and riches men, Champ Hardy.It should've been simple. But the Earps are anything but.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Nicole Haught/Shae Pressman, Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Series: Bedroom Wall/Heartthrob [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138247
Comments: 70
Kudos: 248





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shaught_gun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaught_gun/gifts), [Jt14](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Jt14), [vodkabite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vodkabite/gifts), [BonnieAWelch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BonnieAWelch/gifts).



> Hi. Sorry this took so long to work out. I had to delete it because it kept messing everything up with the first chapter. But anyway, here you are my lovelies.

_My arms are open for you_

_Look at me now_

_Baby, if you want you got me_

_I know you're broken darling_

_I won't let you down_

_Baby, I've been waiting for you_

―Bedroom Wall, BANKS

* * *

Nicole Haught feels like she's being sucked into a black hole. A literal, black hole. Not the kind in sci-fi movies that destroy rockets and the Millennium Falcon, but one that is sucking the physical capability of getting out of bed from her mind. Her limbs feel dead and rusty, as if she hasn't used them in ages, even though it was only yesterday that went for a run around the college campus. But yesterday doesn't even feel like yesterday anymore, it's just another day. A simple little square on a calendar alongside many other equally small squares, waiting to be filled with cute little reminders and birthdays.

Her roommate probably left about two hours ago, considering that she has a sociology class at six am every Monday. The alpha doesn't really know much about the other girl, except that she majors in sociology and is a beta, judging by her scent. Other than that, they've never had a decent conversation at all―apart from that time she screamed at her because Nicole left a banana skin in her bed when she was drunk―but she couldn't care less. In a few years time, they'll forget about one another. Just another set of faces, like so many others. 

The alpha groans as her alarm clock goes off, signalling that she has about half an hour to shower, change and grab breakfast before her criminology class begins. She hates how dull her routine is, and constantly longs for a change. Something. Anything. Is it really that much to ask for? Apparently, in the universe's eyes, it is. But she gave up on considering the universe's opinion a long time ago, much less giving a damn about so-called fate. What bullshit. 

It seemed like fate was listening to the insults she was throwing at it because the next thing she knows, her phone is vibrating wildly against her bedside table. She already knows who is calling, but still, she makes no move to reach for the device thrashing about wildly, preferring to stay in her refuge of pillows and blankets. But the thing just won't stop, and it's driving her mad, drawing a deep growl from her throat. She has half a mind to smash the thing to pieces. 

But she doesn't, and instead, she reaches over and presses the green answer call button. "Hello?" She croaks into the speaker, running a hand through her matted ginger locks and she can almost hear the person on the other end of the receiver rolling their eyes. 

"Get up, Nicole," Robin Jett says with a sigh. "You know today is your first day. I don't expect this kind of behaviour from our rookie. Hurry up and get your ass to the coffee shop, Heat." 

"Oh shoot!" She almost shouts, scrambling out of bed. "I'll be right there, boss!" 


	2. The Angel Of Oakwood

The little bell above the shop’s entrance pings as Nicole enters, a breathless ball of scruffy hair and sweat. Her boots aren’t laced up, there’s a small dollop of toothpaste on her chin and her hair isn’t even brushed. All in all, she doesn't look all that fabulous. Robin arches an eyebrow at his newest worker from behind the counter, directing her towards the employee changing rooms with a small chuckle and a shake of his head. 

Inside, Nicole combs her fingers through her hair roughly, trying to get rid of the many knots before giving up. She then proceeds to splash cold water on her face in the hopes that it will wake her up further, but it only causes her to shiver as droplets of water slide down her neck and below her shirt like skiers swishing down a mountain. 

Uniform on and with a slightly more presentable look about her, the ginger alpha joins her new boss as she takes over as cashier. Despite it being late in the morning, there aren’t that many customers there―just a few stray eldery beta and alpha men scattered around tables, typing on their laptops and a gaggle of middle aged omega women piled into a booth gossiping―probably because most of the usual customers are either at work or school. 

Despite the lack of customers, there is still plenty of work to do; washing up in the kitchen, mopping the floors, cleaning tables, taking orders, serving said orders, taking out the garbage and doing any paperwork that Robin gives her. But she does it all, even if it’s tiring. After all, she isn’t doing this for herself. 

Nicole’s parents have been sick for many years now. It’s a genetic thing, and she’s likely to inherit it from them. Argentuminism. One of the most deadly genetic diseases for werewolves there is. It’s when a wolf―usually with a family history of the disease―receives a deadly chromosome at birth, pumping microscopic shards of toxic silver into their veins. It’s a slow and torturous disease, one that few escape from. 

The Haughts are known to have this disease, usually once every two decades a Haught child is cursed with this illness. Unfortunately for Nicole, both of her parents got it. Her mother’s being a nasty consequence of mating her father, a rare case the doctors call it. 

Unless they are moved up the waiting list to have an operation which only has a 45% success rate, they’re likely to die. The thought brings tears to her eyes. Why her parents? Why not some bad people out there that have done bad to the world? Why is it always the good ones? Why―

“Nicole, watch out!” Robin shouts as he emerges from his office, his lament causing several people’s heads to shoot up, trying to see what all the commotion is about. 

Nicole, being the clutz she is, fails to notice what’s happening until it’s too late. She goes flying into someone much smaller than her, the other person sent toppling to the ground as she crashes into them. In a split second moment of adrenaline, she reaches out and saves the victim of her clumsiness, her strong arms wrapping around their waist as the other person’s clutch the front of her shirt with one hand, her bicep in the other. 

Desperate to apologise, the alpha opens her mouth to do so but the wind is promptly knocked out of her lungs as she meets the eyes of the damsel. It’s a woman, with long, flowing honey brown hair that looks softer than any shampoo advert model’s hair could ever be. Her eyes are a hazel-brown of sorts, glimmering in the lights of the café. Her lips look softer than any Nicole has ever seen. Her tongue darts out to wet her own, but she immediately halts it’s descent when she catches the other woman staring at her. She’s smirking, making the alpha blush crimson; a rare sight to see. 

“Miss Earp,” Robin exclaims as he rushes towards them, a concerned look on his face. “Are you alright? Is there anything you need? An ice pack, tea, any medicine―” 

“It’s quite alright, Robin,” the brunette replies calmly, turning her head towards the beta man but not straying away from Nicole, almost as if the entire scenario was exactly what she wanted. But that was ridiculous. 

Right? 

_ Focus, Haught! Don’t loose your fucking cool, you useless lesbian. Don’t. Mess. This. Up.  _

“Haught,” Nicole splutters, causing the woman―Miss Earp―to raise an eyebrow in confusion. The alpha’s cheeks heat even further at her outburst, making her hands turn clammy with embarrassment. “My name. Haught. Surname. It’s, erm, Nicole. Nicole Haught. And you are?” 

“Waverly. Waverly Earp,” the woman,  _ Waverly _ , says with another one of those gorgeous smirks again. “It’s nice to meet you. You must be quite the popular girl around here.” 

“Oh, you know, it’s all in the smile and wave,” Nicole meekly flirted, feeling more than a little out of her league. 

“Quite the smile it is,” Waverly says sultrily, before another smirk crosses her face. “Or maybe, people just like it when you sweep them off their feet,” she whispered, squeezing the other woman’s biceps for emphasis. 

The alpha’s whole body scorches, white hot. Slowly, she rights the other woman, standing her on her own two feet. It is then that she catches a whiff of her scent; jasmine scented perfume, strawberries and honey. It drives her wild, instantly. Honey is one of the strongest scents that omega pheromones can have, and judging by the look the smaller woman gives her as she exits the customer seating area to follow Robin to his office,  _ she knows _ . 

“Holy hell,” she whispers, her jaw slacked. 

“Can I get a damn coffee, Red!?” A man behind her shouts, breaking her from her trance. 

“Wha―oh! Of course, sir,” she apologies before practically sprinting to the coffee machine. 

* * *

Waverly sits in her office, humming to herself contentedly. Her Sennheiser HD 820 over-ear headphones―open backed, priced at a cheap £1,999 British pounds―are plugged into her  2020 A12Z Bionic, iOS, Wi-Fi, 512GB silver Apple iPad Pro 11, priced at an also cheap £1,069. She’s listening to one of Ariana Grande’s songs,  _ Into You _ , her mind stuck on other matters. 

One of them being that alpha from the coffee shop, Nicole. The cute one who wouldn’t stop blushing throughout their interaction. Bless her heart. She also recalls Robin’s words when they spoke in his office over a bottle of old, flat Coke ―admittedly, not a favourite of hers―and what he said regarding the redhead. She’s hardworking, promising, a college student with rumours circulating Purgatory that her parents are sick. 

She’s promising, alright. 

Maybe this one’s the one. 

“Hey, Chrissy,” she calls out to her assistant, Chrissy Nedley, in the office next door. 

“Yes, boss?” She says as she enters the office, notebook and pen in hand to jot down notes just in case. 

“Gather all the info you can get on Nicole Haught,” she demands, swivelling in her chair as the other woman nods. 

“On it, ma’am.” 


	3. A Proposition On A Silver Platter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to write.

Her name is Waverly, Waverly Earp. It sounds like a name fit for a strong, selfless and caring woman. Nicole thinks it suits her perfectly. Her heart flutters with nervous butterflies as she remembers their encounter earlier. She almost feels the omega in her arms again, a heat coiling low in her gut as she remembers dainty hands squeezing her biceps in a tantalizing fashion. 

Nicole can’t forget the scent of honey. It’s everywhere, making a whine slip past her lips. She hasn’t seen Waverly since her first appearance at the coffee shop, a disappointment that both confuses and terrifies her. Who is this woman, and why is she so hard to forget? 

It’s a week later, a Wednesday, one of the quieter days at the café. The tables are covered with pink and orange tablecloths littered with polka dots and flowers in pots, giving the entire space a cosy atmosphere. Country music played quietly in the background, mixed with the sounds of the coffee machine brewing and silver clicking against ceramic and the slosh of soapy water in the kitchen washing dirty plates and mugs. If you had the enhanced hearing of an alpha , you’d be able to hear the faint scratching of Robin’s pen against paper and the unwrapping of his secret sweet collection. 

Nicole is busy organizing the cakes and other confectionery in the display case when two women walk inside. One of them is a tall woman with chocolate coloured hair pulled back in a ponytail and immaculate eyebrows, her strong cheekbones dusted with makeup and her plump lips coloured a shade of purple like plums, matching her blouse that is made of an expensive material rarely seen in Purgatory, if at all. Her heels click against the wooden floor, her skirt swishing, but the woman next to her is what makes Nicole’s mouth water. 

It’s Waverly Earp. She’s dressed in a cut-out pintucked silk-crepe dress by Giorgio Armani that probably cost more than Nicole’s entire wardrobe combined. Her heels are shining and her lips are dusted with a ruby red lipstick, making her eyes shine like golden-green jewels that deserve to be displayed next to the Crown Jewels of London. Her hair looks silky smooth―probably because it’s washed with expensive shampoo and conditioner every time she showers― and is left curling over shoulders. 

They approached the counter, followed by a man with a moustache and a cowboy hat perched on his head, his eyes dark and alert as he surveys the area as if he’s waiting for a gang of thieves to pounce out of nowhere. There’s the distinct shape of a gun holstered at his belt, his fingers curling next to it. Nicole can’t tell what age he is, but she catches a whiff of men’s cologne and the scent of cigarettes and alcohol about him, outweighing the scent of Waverly’s female companion, who smells of raspberries and women’s perfume. 

But then there’s honey, and a confident smile on Waverly’s face as if she knows exactly what her scent does to the alpha. A subtle smirk rests on her gorgeous lips as she reaches a hand across the counter, the other gripping softly onto the handle of her Gucci handbag. 

“Nicole, wasn’t it?” She asks, but it sounds more like a statement to Nicole. Even so, she nods, unable to speak. The brunette’s smirk widens. “This my assistant, Chrissy Nedley, and John Henry Holiday, my sister’s friend and my personal bodyguard. I was wondering if you could spare a moment to talk with us?” 

Nicole’s brain barely registers the words, still flabbergasted. “Oh, um, sure. I’m meant to be on shift right now but I’m sure Robin won’t mind. Wednesdays are pretty slow anyways,” she rambles, cursing internally.  _ Stop talking. _

Waverly nods, still smiling that damned smile. “Excellent. Also, if that’s okay, would you mind getting us some coffee and cakes? Thank you so much,” she said, sliding over a hundred dollar bill. 

Nicole’s jaw drops. No one in Purgatory gives out hundred dollar tips. The most people were willing to give was five dollars, and even then it was sometimes reluctantly. That just thickened the mystery about who this woman was that wore expensive Giorgio Armani dresses to a cafe ―in Purgatory no less―and who is literally the equivalent of an angel, with her red lips, twinkling eyes and kind gestures. There’s another side of her, the alpha is sure of it, that demands what she wants and isn’t afraid to get it. The combination leaves her buzzing. 

With clammy hands the redhead rushes to fill out the order of complicated coffees and cakes that aren’t available in the display case because they are what Robin would call luxurious top-shelf merchandise. She receives many thanks and is loading far more bills than she expected into the cash register, the crispness of the paper and the numbers on it making her head spin. 

Eventually, her boss lets her go on break early once he realises who has requested her presence. With shaking legs, Nicole slides into the booth opposite John Henry and Waverly. The bodyguard regarded her with a blank look, probably wondering why his superior was interested in her, of all people. The alpha shuffled uncomfortably under the heavy scrutiny, relieved that at least Chrissy was focused on whatever was happening on her phone. 

“Do you know why I’m interested in speaking with you, Nicole?” Waverly asked after a beat of silence, cutting off a thin slice of lemon drizzle cake but she didn’t move to eat a morsel. Taking the woman’s silence as permission to continue, she did exactly that. “I read your file. I know that your parents are sick and that you’ve been struggling with debt.” 

Nicole bristles uncomfortably at the mention of her parents being sick and her canyon of debt that continues to rise. “Forgive me for sounding rude, but why are you bringing this up? As far as I’m aware, I don’t owe you any money. I can return the tip ―” 

The omega grabs her hand as she moves to return the money to her, placing her own on top of the alpha’s. Nicole feels herself blush at the contact, more so when the beginnings of a smirk form on Waverly’s perfect lips as she raises the redhead’s hand to her mouth, kissing it softly before lowering it with a smug smile as she takes in Nicole’s tinted cheeks that match her hair. 

“Why would someone want to take anything away from such a gorgeous girl like you, hmm?” The brunette cooed, still wearing that same smirk on her face that looks like it could cut the hardest of diamonds. “I just want to help you, if you’d let me. That’s all. Provided you help me in return for a few thousand dollars that could cover your debts.” 

“Help you in what way?” The alpha asks cautiously, raising an eyebrow. She worried that she wouldn’t like what was said next, especially because she got nervous butterflies in her stomach upon seeing the look John and Waverly shared before the omega turned towards her once more. 

“By pretending to be my fiancé,” she said, promptly knocking the wind out of Nicole’s lungs. 


	4. Polka Dots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your continuous support. I have big plans for this series and I can't wait to share this journey with you all. Thank you for joining the Bedroom Wall/Heartthrob Express, and all abroad! 
> 
> Okay. Maybe that was too cringe.

Nicole couldn’t speak. If she hadn’t been in peak condition health wise, she would’ve feared she was having a heart attack. Maybe she was having one. It wasn’t everyday that a gorgeous omega who handed out hundred dollar tips happened to know about your parents declining health and then offered to help you as long as pretended to be her fiancé. Yeah, Nicole figured she had the right to choke on thin air for that one. 

Chrissy arched an eyebrow at her reaction, as if she’d been expecting the alpha to lunge at the opportunity, consequences be damned. But Nicole was nothing if not cautious. One could say it was a Haught family trait, or maybe it was just a Nicole trait. Waverly at least had the decency to look guilty, probably realising that this was a lot to take in. 

The redhead counts the polka dots on the tablecloth as she thinks over the brunette’s offer. It was certainly suspicious, but she did know that she needed the money. Her aunt and uncle would’ve offered to help her had they been alive, but of course they weren’t. She shuddered, trying not to dwell too long on the memories of them. She went back to counting polka dots. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. All orange and pink. Eight, nine, ten. Waverly was peering at her closely. During her state of shock, Nicole had snatched her hand back, twiddling her thumbs together underneath the table, a nervous habit she’d had ever since she was a pup. 

Perhaps a younger, more naïve Nicole Haught would’ve accepted the offer with little need to think it over, but the present Nicole was a lot more stubborn and refused to let anyone help her. Robin claimed that it was one of her worst traits and made it incredibly hard to work with her , something she couldn’t really argue with. 

Eleven, twelve, thirteen. There was a small stain of ketchup next to the thirteenth polka dot and the alpha grappled with her inner perfectionist not to reach for a rag and scrub it clean. She always found that focusing on helping other people or cleaning things had been a great distraction from her feelings, a habit that was both a curse and a blessing. 

It was a blessing because she didn’t have to look up and see the way John Henry’s moustache twitched as he regarded her with a strange mixture of pity and amusement, as if he couldn’t really fathom what an enigma he was looking at. He probably expected her to be greedy and reach for the proposition of money eagerly, but he had a lot to learn about her if that’s what he thought. 

It was a curse though because she couldn’t concentrate on her feelings, meaning that she had no idea if she was willing to take the deal or not. Nicole did need to pay off her debts, and she really wanted to help her parents, but she just wasn’t sure if this was the way she should do it. But what other option was there? It wasn’t like there were any other billionaires―at least, she assumed the omega was a billionaire―willing to help her for such a small price. 

“Why me?” Nicole asked eventually, after she had counted all the polka dots she could see. There were thirty five visible to her, but if she had the time to count every polka dot on every tablecloth, there were likely to be more. Maybe four hundred, but that besides the point. 

Waverly tilted her head to the side in confusion, before a slow smile spread across her lips. If Nicole didn’t know any better, she’d almost describe it as shy. “I like helping people. No one should have to lose their parents or their chance at a good education simply because of debt. It’s not fair. You’re too good of a person to lose all of that. Also, selfishly, I’d like to get to know you better. Files don’t reveal everything,” she added with a wink. 

Nicole almost died on the spot. Winks were usually cringe and un-practiced, sent to her by younger students at her college. A few women had been good at it, but there was something about Waverly that just drew her in. Maybe, selfishly, she wanted to get to know her better, too. 

“Alright,” she said eventually, and relief flitted across Waverly’s face. A genuine smile replaced her smirk, and it made her seem softer, more shy. It gave Nicole the courage to reach across the table, brushing their fingers together ever so slightly. “I just have a few questions.” 

“Shoot,” the other girl said, appearing more relaxed as she leaned forward, less business-like now. Although Nicole wasn’t sure what was business like about holding hands with this insanely beautiful woman who had called her gorgeous and kissed her hand. Maybe that was the wrong way to describe it. 

Either way, there was a calmer atmosphere in the air, and Chrissy suddenly wasn’t there in the booth beside them, and neither was John Henry. Just for one moment, Nicole could pretend that they were on a date. She envisioned what it would’ve been like to meet this odd, intriguing woman in another life. 

Waverly could’ve been a cheerleader―or maybe that was just wishful thinking―and Nicole would’ve been on the basketball team, the captain, exactly as she was in real life. There would’ve been longing stares during games, until, inevitably, the alpha worked up the courage to ask her out. But then reality came rushing in, and Nicole’s fantasy was crushed like a can of Coke and left on the ground just like her other dreams that had been crushed. Litter. Crushed hopes. What on Earth was she thinking? It was hopeless to pretend things could be different. Besides, she didn’t like Waverly. 

Definitely not. No way. 

Nicole winced, but hoped it didn’t show on her features. Instead, she asked one of the many questions lingering on the tip of her tongue. “Um, why do you need to have a fake engagement in the first place? I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry Miss Waverly, it’s just not something I’m used to being asked to be a part of.” 

Waverly laughed. “Miss Waverly? How cute. What a polite one you are. That is most pleasing to hear. As for needing a fake engagement, it is because I need to avoid a real one. My father, Ward Earp, plans on making me marry Champ Hardy. He wants to have the Earp dynasty join with the Hardy one. But I refuse to marry that pig.” 

“Earp dynasty?” Nicole asked dumbly. Finally, the pieces all clicked into place. She knew exactly who this woman was now. “No way. You’re  _ the _ Waverly Earp. You’re a billionaire. I used to watch you on TV all the time as a kid. You appeared on all of my favourites shows,” she said excitedly. 

“Really?” Waverly asked, as if she were surprised to have any fans at all. “That’s nice of you to say. I’m glad I have such a lovely admirer. But yes, I do not wish to be engaged to Champ, so I’ve been searching for the right candidate to do this. I almost gave up, but then I met you. I’m glad I did.” 

The omega’s eyes were practically shining, almost like smoky green jewels. Chrissy snickered from besides Nicole, finally looking up from her phone, but winced it pain seconds later. Nicole assumed her boss had kicked her beneath the table. She was tempted to laugh as well, but didn’t want to risk the wrath of Waverly Earp. 

Nicole blushed at the praise. “Thank you. I have to ask, who is Champ Hardy? The name is familiar, but I don’t know exactly who he is.” 

Waverly sighed, a disgusted expression on her face as she spoke of him. “He’s a politician. He’s running for president this year. The Hardy family are very powerful, and very rich. He has almost the same amount of money to his name as I do, but the Earps have been in power for many centuries. We have political and royal connections. It is why he’s so eager to marry me. With an Earp at his side, he’d be unstoppable.” 

“Seems like you’d make quite the power couple,” Nicole remarked, causing Waverly to scoff at the idea. 

“As if I’d ever marry that scumbag,” she cursed, a dark expression on her normally pure, innocent face. “He thinks that male alphas should be at the top of the hierarchy. He’s mentioned in multiple interviews and public speeches that female alphas are inconvenient as they cannot procreate and plans on slaughtering them like nothing more than squirrels, or wild bears. He’s sexist and thinks that omegas are nothing more than sexual objects to be used for population purposes and pleasure. He gets to say all of this because he’s got insane amounts of power, but there are people who disagree with him. He plans on shunning those he thinks are below him.” 

“I’m sorry,” the alpha replied, her brows furrowed in genuine concern. Waverly was surprised at this. She hadn’t expected Nicole to care about her problems when she had so many of her own. The redhead played with the omega’s fingers absentmindedly, occasionally peeking up at her with shy, warm brown eyes. “You shouldn’t have to marry someone like that. He sounds like a douchebag.” 

Waverly smiled at the insult. “I knew you were a smart one, Nicole Haught. Truly one of the smartest I’ve ever known. But yes, I don’t appreciate Champ’s intellect or his beliefs. All wolves should be equal. I just wish people would realise that he shouldn’t be in a high political position. He does enough damage already.” 

“I’d kick him in the nuts, but I’d probably be arrested,” Nicole said with a chuckle. Waverly’s lips stretched into a wider grin, if that was even possible. “I’ve thought it over, and I’m willing to help you. So I accept your fake engagement. But I’m not doing it for the money, no matter how much I need it.” 

“No?” Waverly asks, her eyebrow raised. John Henry looked up from reading over the menu for the twentieth time, his moustache twitching. Chrissy looked between Nicole and Waverly for a few moments before her fingers went back to clicking away at her phone. 

“I’m doing it to help you,” Nicole replied firmly. Her admission made Waverly blush, a sight that made a smirk of her own pull at her lips. “Also, selfishly, maybe I want to get to know you better too.” 

* * *

They didn’t see one another until a week after their first conversation at the café. Waverly had gone over the contract they had both signed, a contract that would last for at least two months. There were two months until the presidential election, and Champ Hardy planned on being married to Waverly by then. Little did he know, the brunette was pulling all the stops to avoid that. 

Of course, Nicole had to tell some of her closest friends and family about the contract. If they were ever asked about the engagement, it wouldn’t be believable if they had no clue that the young alpha was engaged in the first place. Waverly had some of her associates―mainly Chrissy and a handful of statue-like bodyguards―hand out similar contracts to all of them, along with a cheque of cash that made her grandmother almost suffer a coronary. Nicole didn’t blame her. 

It was a week later, a Tuesday, when she emerged from the sports centre situated next to her college after basketball practice to be greeted by a clean shaven man with toffee coloured skin and hard, blue eyes that could’ve been described as silver, for they were lacking in blueness. His hair was done in a crew cut style, tattoos climbing up the curve of his neck, grappling for purchase on his face. He wore a black button up, black slacks and a purple tie. An earring glimmered on his left ear. A limo stood behind the mystery man. 

“Get in,” the man said, as if that were an explanation as to why he was here and who he was. When Nicole made no move to enter the limo, the man sighed, straightening his tie. “Miss Earp sent me. Boss requests your presence for dinner. Doesn’t wish for you to be late.” 

That was enough of an explanation for Nicole. At least for now. She slid into the backsuit of the limo, sighing as the leather seats cushioned her sore thigh muscles. The alpha’s hair was still wet from her after-practice shower, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care, even as little droplets spattered across the smooth leather. 

The mystery man slid into the seat across from her, muttering a few words to the driver before the limo smoothly began its journey. He didn’t attempt any conversation throughout the drive, his eyes surveying their surroundings through the tinted windows, his expression unreadable. Nicole shivered. He reminded her of a certain someone far too much. 

The limo passed through a set of golden gates, lined heavily by security guards. Nicole assumed this was the famous Oakwood, the playground of the rich and famous. It shocked her that celebrities and famous people lived so close by, yet they were a world away from Purgatory. It made her stomach twist in knots, realising that she was an outsider. It wasn’t a feeling she enjoyed. 

Oakwood was made up of mansions, three times the size of Nicole’s childhood home. The sight of them, looming like giants above her, made her jaw drop in awe. She didn’t even care when the guard across from her made a noise of disapproval as she pressed her face further against the glass, like a child peering into a shop from the outside and pointing out all of the toys they wanted. 

Waverly’s mansion eventually came into view. It was perhaps the most beautiful of them all, golden in colour with white window sills and pillars supporting the balcony that stood centre stage above the main entrance. A water fountain with a statue that resembled a naked goddess mixed with a gnome spurted out water from its mouth. There were many cars parked in the driveway, mainly Lamborghinis and even a candy red Jeep, slightly rusted from old age. 

Waverly emerged from her home, dressed in a pair of tight fitting blacks jeans, expensive sneakers and a cashmere sweater that coincidentally was covered in polka dots. Nicole could never afford the sweater but Waverly could probably buy it in every colour imaginable. Along with matching shoes. And socks! The thought of a rainbow of sweaters and shoes and socks vanished from her mind once the driver opened the limo door for her with a polite nod, the guard following closely at her heels. 

“Thank you for getting her Lorenzo,” Waverly thanked the guard with a cheery smile, before she turned to Nicole. “Hey. How’ve you been? I was hoping we could catch up over dinner and possibly discuss the contract further. But first, you should get out of those sweaty clothes.” 

Nicole arched an eyebrow at this, smirking. “Miss Earp, that is most inappropriate.” 

Waverly blushed. “That’s not what I meant! Just...just come inside when you’re ready.” 

Nicole laughed, ignoring the predatory growl Lorenzo released from behind her. 


End file.
